WITHOUT ARMOUR
by Patcat
Summary: My very first fanfic, inspired by a Dear Abby column and some of the wonderful writers at Amorous Intent.
1. Chapter 1

WITHOUT ARMOUR

Alex moved into consciousness. Resisting, as she had  
before, the urge to reach for her gun beneath the bed, she watched Bobby Goren's large frame glide cautiously from beneath the pile of blankets, sit up, and reach carefully into the pile of clothes on the floor next to the bed. Alex nestled deeper into the blankets, but kept her eyes on his dark shape. She didn't want to let Bobby know that she was awake, or to explain why she had been awakened by this   
same movement for the week they had been sharing this bed. As he had every night for that week, Bobby slipped on his boxers and T-shirt, paused for a moment to look down at Alex, moved with as much care as he could muster from his body, and gently slipped an arm around her. Alex listened as his breathing deepened into sleep and thanked any powers that might be listening that Bobby didn't snore. As big as he was, she thought, his snores would wake up most of Manhattan.

Alex set her still sleep fogged mind on this particular Bobby behavior. Bobby was a wonderful lover--gentle, passionate, able to make her respond in ways Alex hadn't imagined possible. "Great," she thought, "I sound like those romance novels I refuse to read." Their first night had been a wild, desperate coming together driven by lust, need, and love. Alex had returned from her orgasm to find an incoherent Bobby sobbing her name. She had lifted his tear soaked face and tried to kiss away the sweet drops. Alex had read about men who were moved to tears when they came, but encountering it in real life was disconcerting. As Bobby calmed, he explained to her that his collapse was a combination of his wanting her so much for so long, his own exhaustion, and her beauty and passion; Alex fell  
into contented sleep in his arms. When the creaking bed alerted her to Bobby's departure from the bed, she was stunned. "He's leaving," her mind ran. "We've ruined everything--he just wanted to use me--did I do something wrong?" Her racing thoughts stilled as Alex realized  
Bobby had stopped putting on his clothes. Clad in his underwear, he ran his hands through his hair as he gazed down on her. Then, having ended whatever debate was going on in his head, he slid into bed beside her.

And that pattern had continued for the seven days they had been together. They made love, they had sex (and both of them knew enough to know the difference), and after every session they clung together. And at some point in the night Bobby would rise, put on at least his boxers, and return to the bed. Alex didn't think it was from shyness or some fear about his body--their fourth night together Bobby had  
performed a lively strip tease in her bedroom that ended with him snapping his tie at her. On the fifth night she asked him if her apartment was too cold; he responded he liked it on the cold side. "Gets you in bed quicker," he said with a wicked grin. The clothes rarely stayed on very long in the morning--even when Bobby brought her coffee (he brought it on their first morning and placed it on her bed side table with a flourish. "If you had anything in this place," he told her, "I'd have brought you a real breakfast." She rapidly demonstrated he was a more than welcome substitute) what he was wearing disappeared with astonishing speed. But it seemed that Bobby Goren wouldn't, or couldn't, sleep in the nude.

The detective in Alex resolved to explore this behavior. The next night she willed herself to stay awake. A few minutes after Bobby appeared to be convinced she was asleep, he began twitching softly and stirring. Alex thought he was trying to sleep, but some battle seemed to be taking place in his head. Finally, he gave a ragged sigh, rose from the bed, and placed on his underwear. Alex managed to stay awake long enough the next night to witness a repeat performance, and it became clear that this was a pattern. Alex filed it away with the other information she was learning about Bobby--including his dislike of country music and his fondness for sharing her shower- for future reference.

They had been together for almost a month and were at a point where they didn't feel the need to have sex and/or make love every night and day when they caught a tough case. For a week Alex and Bobby snatched moments of sleep between interviews, reading reports, and searching for patterns in evidence. It finally ended, but with one of  
those interrogations that left them both bleeding. When they headed for their desks, Deakins looked at them both with sad, empathetic eyes. Carver even came by Alex's desk and murmured a few words of thanks. Bobby, in the process of staring at a form, was lost to the rest of the world. "Home, both of you," Deakins told Alex, and Bobby seemed barely aware as she guided him out of the office, into a taxi, and to her apartment.

She had locked the door and was turning to ask him if he wanted a drink when he was on her. "Please, Alex, please, need you, let me get lost in you." He mumbled a constant stream of words as he pushed her against the door. He pushed her mouth open with his tongue and teeth, and his hands pushed off her coat. "Bobby," she groaned, and then she cried out as he covered her throat with kisses and nips. He shed his jacket and she pulled off his tie as he pushed her to the bedroom. Bobby yanked her sweater over Alex's head, and bent his head to her upper chest. Alex gasped as he roughly pulled off her bra. "Bobby, please, it's, a little time, give me..uh…" Bobby was kissing,  
biting, grabbing her breasts. "Alex, so beautiful..please, help me, take me away, forgive me...need you so much...please, let me forget." Bobby's pleading, desperate words blended into the heat Alex felt on her body. She managed to get her hands between them to unbutton Bobby's shirt. He stepped back from her, and Bobby pulled his undershirt off, followed by his pants and boxers. Alex sat down on the bed, and lifted her legs to help Bobby remove her slacks and underwear. He pushed her back on the bed and was over her. Alex looked up at him. All she could see was Bobby's massive frame, and his deep, desperate eyes. Bobby had always taken his time with her, even in their roughest moments, making sure she was ready for his moves, gently opening and exploring her with his mouth and hands. But   
this time he was moving on her with a terrible speed and want. For the first time in their lovemaking, Alex was afraid. "He could hurt me, he really could--he's so big, he could crush me with one hand," she thought. But she heard the horrible need in his voice, the constant stream of words. "Please, Alex, need you, please, have to get lost, get away, help me please…" Then he was inside her, pressing and pushing. Alex felt a combination of great pleasure and  
pain and gasped. She grabbed Bobby to her and felt him explode in her. As her own orgasm took her, she heard Bobby cry out, "Forgive me!"

Alex came back slowly from her pleasure. Bobby, sobbing and staggering, was stumbling back from the bed. Alex sat up. "Bobby," she said in an unsteady voice. "It's all right.  
You didn't hurt me."

He struggled to control himself. "No…I...oh, Alex…oh, God…what have I..." He stared at her.

She reached her hand to him. "It's all right...really. Listen..." she tried to lighten her voice. "I got something out of it too."

Bobby calmed a bit. "You're sure? You're fine? I didn't hurt you?"

"No, you didn't. But if you don't get back in bed and warm me up I might get pneumonia."

He moved carefully into the bed. Alex snuggled up to him. Bobby placed his large arms around her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just...I needed to...I needed you."

"It's ok…really," Alex answered. "It's good to be needed."

They drifted into sleep, but Alex was awakened by Bobby's murmuring and twitching. Before she fully escaped sleep she was aware of Bobby's deep sigh. She was alert by the time he was slipping on his boxers.

"Bobby," she said softly as she touched his now covered back.

He started slightly at her touch and voice, and turned his head towards her. "Sorry." His voice was low and exhausted. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Bobby, what is it?"

"Just a bad dream. I guess you've noticed by now I have them." His voice and posture were rueful.

Alex felt she had to ask. "Yea, but, Bobby...why can't you sleep in the nude? Is it me?"

Bobby sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Do you...really want to know?" 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Bobby sat on the edge of the bed. He was leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees, his head in his hands. A large hand occasionally rose in front of his mouth, or drove through his hair. Alex sat behind him, gently rubbing his back. "Don't push," she thought. Their relationship was too young, too fragile, and had too many outside pressures to pour out too many secrets too fast. She knew Bobby hid many monsters in the dark caverns of his mind, and that she had more than a few black chambers of her own. And in one of the honest corners of her mind, Alex feared what Bobby's monsters might do to her and what hers might do to him.

"I want to know," she said softly, "Whatever you want me to know."

He sighed as he turned toward her. "Aren't you cold?" he asked. "Do you want to put something on?"

"A little. Hey, give me your shirt."

Bobby fished his shirt from the pile on the floor and helped Alex pull it over her head. Even in the dim light she could see his smile as she swam in the huge, sweet smelling cotton. He swung his legs up into the bed and pulled the covers over both of them. Suddenly, with an air of decision, he rolled on his side away from her. "Ok," she thought. "Not a big deal. He just doesn't like sleeping in the nude and doesn't want to tell me." But her inner voice couldn't squelch the surprisingly strong sense of disappointment in her.

He broke into her inner monologue. "Do you usually sleep naked?" Bobby's voice asked hesitantly.

"When it's hot," Alex replied. "Sometimes when it's cold, and my flannel sheets are fresh and I've just taken a really hot shower…and when I'm with someone I trust...and care for..." She was avoiding the "L" word, but both of them had been doing that since the start of this turn in their lives.

"I've never been able to." He was still turned away from her, and his voice was muffled. She placed her hand on his back, and he softly shuddered at her touch. "Not ever, not with anyone. It's not you--I want…I want to be able to wrap around you and sleep through the night...I can't..."

Alex moved closer to him and let her right arm curl around him. Her hand found one of his, and the fingers looped together.

"I never really understood why, and it wasn't that big a deal." He seemed to be gaining confidence as he spoke. "And then I read a Dear Abby column..."

"Dear Abby?" Alex asked. "You read Dear Abby?" The image of big Bobby Goren perusing an advice column struck her, even in the tension of the moment, as more than slightly funny.

"Part of my endless quest for knowledge of the human psyche," Bobby wryly replied. "I also read Miss Manners, although I gather some people think I would never go near that." He paused and gathered strength.

"Anyway, in this column a mother wrote because she'd just learned that her 15 year old daughter was sleeping in the nude. The mother described her daughter as bright and charming, really well put together. They had a great relationship, and everything was really good, except for the occasional stuff. But the mother was just, well, wanted to know if this sleeping nude was, ok?"

Bobby paused again, and his grip noticeably tightened.

"So," Alex said, "what did Abby say?"

"Said it was perfectly normal. And that one of the people she consulted said the mother should feel honored. She had created a...a secure...a safe place. That the daughter...when we're asleep, we're at our most vulnerable...and for the daughter to feel…safe enough..."

He couldn't go on, and Alex involuntarily hugged him tighter as the realization hit her. Bobby had never...

"I knew then..." She could scarcely hear his voice. "I never felt safe enough...not with my mom, or my dad…certainly not at some places...I had to have some clothes on. I had to be able to jump up...to run...I had to have some armour...even if it was a ratty NYU T-shirt…" Bobby shuddered, and Alex gently pushed him on his shoulder so that he turned on his back.

He was shivering and his eyes were shut. Alex curled on top of him, getting as much of her small frame over him as possible. His hands came up to tangle in her hair.

"Hey," she said. "I can be part of your armour too."

His eyes opened wide, and he lifted her head to look at her. Tears began to brim out of his eyes, and when he finally spoke his voice trembled.

"Are you...sure? And...this armour...is it...what will protect you?"

"You," she said. "You'll be mine. I mean, mine has its weak points, spots where the joints don't fit together. You cover mine, I'll cover yours."

He looked intensely at her, as if he were trying to pierce her thoughts with his eyes. Then, he let his head fall back on the pillow. "Ok," he said.

"Ok," she answered.

"Enough," she thought as they both drifted to sleep. "Enough for now."

Their relationship changed over the next months. They didn't need to run to the bedroom, or fall to the floor, or fall on the kitchen table and break it the minute they got home. They occasionally simply went to bed and read or watched television before going to sleep. Alex got to see the NYU T-shirt and to wear more of Bobby's soft cotton dress shirts. The sex and the lovemaking were still incredible and Bobby and Alex collapsed naked into each other. And in the morning Bobby would be wearing at least his boxers. And Alex would feel a twinge of pain for Bobby and disappointment for herself.

In spite of the pressures involved with hiding and balancing their private and professional lives, the two of them were on a roll. For once the roll didn't involve murderers or lost souls--instead they caught cases involving major robberies and swindles, cases that engaged their brains without zapping their souls.

It couldn't last.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Captain James Deakins was an old school gentleman. He treated women with grace, got up when one entered the room, opened doors for them, tried to shield and protect them, even women who were tough, intelligent and First Grade Detectives. Alex could handle and even appreciate Deakins' attitudes, and it rarely created a ripple in their relationship except for the rare moments when his protectiveness overshadowed his professionalism. Ron Carver struck her as a man who had learned the power of women early in his life and recognized their strengths. He treated them, and her, accordingly. Carver viewed her with respect and wariness. In their professional lives, Goren treated her as Eames, an equal. Others might view him as the senior member of their partnership, and Alex occasionally had to remind others of the fact she made First Grade some six months before Bobby, but Bobby never forgot her importance. He might lose himself in a case and ignore her as he did everyone else, but he never forgot her value or hesitated to give her credit.

Goren's insistence on her importance in their partnership was the cause of her current state. Alex was in a shower at One Police Plaza, furiously scrubbing away at the real and imagined filth covering her body. At the moment she was rabidly angry at anything possessing a penis, including Robert Goren. Although she believed she loved Bobby and particularly loved what that particular body part could do to her, if he had walked in at that moment and she had a knife, Bobby's genitalia would have been in danger. "It's not his fault," she whispered to the shower walls. She ceased her frantic scrubbing and leaned against the tiles.

It was a nasty case on every level. The teenage daughter of a city politician was raped and murdered under circumstances that suggested she was involved with a drug dealer. The politician insisted Major Case investigate, that the city's best detective investigate, and as far as that politician knew, that detective was Robert Goren. Bobby insisted on Alex's presence, although the grieving father barely registered her. The detectives originally on the case treated Bobby as a freak and ignored Alex. Bobby and Alex discovered that the FBI had connections with the drug dealer, and the FBI agent on the case treated them with unconcealed contempt. At one point, while Bobby examined a file in another room, the agent leaned across his desk and in a soft, vile whisper managed to pierce all of Alex's weak points. He had seen her file, knew about her father. Did she think she deserved her position? Was it hard work and intelligence that had got her where she was? He didn't think so. Was it instead her pretty blonde looks? Debts someone owed her father? Perhaps she had been promoted because some higher-up felt guilty that her father had been caught double dipping? Was she at Major Case because someone felt sorry for the young widow of a murdered cop? Was she fucking someone? Several someones? Alex was on the point of drawing her gun, when Bobby returned to the room. She said nothing to him, but felt a hearty sense of satisfaction when he told her he believed the agent was involved in the murder. As they drove back to One Police Plaza, she told him some of what happened in the agent's office, leaving out some of the most wounding comments. For a moment, Robert Goren disappeared and Bobby took his place.

"I'll…bastard…I'll…" He struggled to control himself, and was silent the rest of the trip. When he left the car, he strode over to a plastic garbage can and kicked it into oblivion. Calmed, he returned to a stunned and silent Alex. "I'm sorry that you had to deal with this, Alex." He paused for a moment. "We could…it could help us get him…"

It did help get him—it developed that Alex, like the murdered girl, was the agent's "type". It helped their case that he began making phone calls dripping with venom and suggestions to Alex. It helped that the agent was incredibly stupid and addicted to the drugs his informant supplied him. It helped the case but not Alex when she met him and he pawed her and told her she was so much better than the girl and letting him fuck her was a brilliant career move. Alex was already emotionally bruised and battered before Bobby and the others burst in the room, but she received a few physical marks before the agent was restrained. In a moment, his bluster and arrogance were gone, replaced by a suddenly tiny man crying and screaming and pleading for his lost life. This was followed by an endless stream of cameras and reporters (the press had learned of a potential arrest) and a Wagnerian opera length pow-wow in Deakins' office among the representatives of what seemed every police agency in the greater New York City area. Alex finally escaped to the shower.

She emerged from the women's locker room to find Bobby waiting for her. He moved towards her, but stopped inches away. "Deakins says we're to go home. He said to tell you he can't know what all this cost you, but that you did a great job." Bobby paused, and looked away. "Sorry…sorry doesn't begin to describe what I want to say to you, Alex. To go through that, to put you though it…" He stopped.

"Please," she said. "I want to go home."

Bobby hailed the taxi, bundled her in, and got her home. He followed her into her house and stood uncertainly in her front room. Alex ignored him and fled to her bedroom. She fell into the bed and cocooned herself with the blankets.

Bobby appeared in the doorway. "Alex?" he whispered. "What, what can I do? Are you all right?"

"Go away. Just go away."

"No," he thought. "I've ruined it."

End Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Bobby felt pain and panic rising in him. Nothing in his life had been as good as these past months with Alex, not even his joy in learning and in doing his job well. Every pleasure he had ever felt was nothing compared to how she made him feel. And now, because of what he put her through, because of his plan, she was in pain. "I must love her," he thought. "Nothing else could hurt like this." He knew she hadn't told him all of the details of what the agent had said to her, but Bobby had heard enough and knew enough about Alex to recognize that all of her vulnerabilities had been pulled out of her and shredded. Bobby knew all too well what that felt like. As he rubbed his hand along his neck, he desperately ran his mind through their past conversations to search for something to say to break down the wall between them.

He found something. "Alex," he began…

"Bobby, go away…just, leave…I need to be alone." Her voice was distant and lost in her cocoon.

"I will, I'll go if you really want me to. But please, just let me say something…" His voice began pleading, but gained strength and confidence as he went on as if saying the words increased his belief in them. "You told me once that…that we needed to be each other's armour. We could…protect…we could protect each other, defend each other's weaknesses. You covered me, you filled in the gaps. Please, let me…please let me try to…to cover you…to help you. Please." He stood in the dark quiet for a long time.

He had given up and was about to leave when he heard her give a small cry. He looked back at the bed and saw Alex sitting up and reaching out to him. Bobby was kneeling by the bed in an instant, and reached up to wrap himself around her. Alex clung to him and began to weep in a steady stream. She buried her head against his shoulder and her body shook in his arms. Bobby held her and gently stroked her hair and her arms. Neither of them understood what Bobby was saying—he simply kept murmuring soft, gentle words.

Alex's tears finally eased. Bobby still held her.

"What," he whispered, "Do you want? What can I do?"

"I want to be clean," she answered. "Clean and warm and safe."

Bobby pulled away from her. "I can do that," he said. "Give me a few minutes?"

"Of course," she nodded. Alex wiped her eyes and nose on her sweatshirt sleeve. She saw the light go on in the bathroom, and then heard the sound of running water. Bobby seemed to rummaging about the apartment. He returned to her in a few minutes holding one of her largest, fluffiest towels. He laid the towel on the bed, and then reached for her.

"Please," he said, beckoning for her to come to him.

Alex stood up, and Bobby gently lifted the sweatshirt over her head. He undid her bra, and then helped her out of her sweatpants and underwear. He was kneeling before her, and raised his head to place a soft kiss on her lips. He kissed and touched every part of her, and each kiss and touch warmed and healed her. When he was finished, he picked up the towel and wrapped it around her. Bobby stood up, and swiftly swept Alex up in his arms. A warm feeling rose up and out of Alex, and she giggled.

"Hey," Bobby said. "This is my big romantic gesture. Don't laugh."

Alex smiled at him. He sat her down next to the tub filled with bubble bath. The room glowed with several candles. He uncurled the towel, and helped her step into the tub. Alex sank into the warm, fragrant water. Bobby kissed her on the top of her head. "I'll be back soon," he promised.

Alex drifted in and out of near sleep for the next few minutes. She thought she heard running water again, and Bobby returned carrying her largest pitcher. He knelt next to the tub, and lifted Alex's head and began to wash her hair. Alex never realized that such a simple task could be so sensual and kind. Bobby's long, elegant hands wove in and out of her hair and pressed against her scalp. He rinsed it with the water in the pitcher, and then picked up a washcloth. Slowly, softly, gently, he ran the cloth over her body, tenderly touching the bruises, reaching between her legs with infinite care. Bobby watched as Alex began to glow from the warm water and the sweet soap. "Time to rinse," he said and unplugged the tub. As the water drained, he filled the pitcher and poured the water over Alex again and again. He helped her to her feet, and wrapped the towel around her.

"I'll get your pajamas," he said as he turned to go.

"No..Bobby…I want you around me. Just you." Her voice filled him with so much that he had to lean against the doorframe to keep from falling. He turned back to her, picked her up, and carried her to the bed. He helped her out of the towel, and then quickly undressed. Bobby slid in beside her, and she turned towards him.

"Whatever you want, Bobby," she said.

"This," he said, wrapping himself around her. "This is what I want."

They slept.

Bobby awoke to the sun poking through Alex's window blind. Just as he stirred, Alex moved in his arms. She smiled up at him as she became fully conscious. He lifted himself on an elbow and smiled at her.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Hey, yourself." Alex let her hand softly trail down Bobby's chest. She started.

"Bobby…" Her voice was full of discovery and something Bobby couldn't quite define—joy?

"Yes?" he said puzzled.

"You're still naked. You," she paused for a moment. "You're without your armour."

Bobby looked at her in amazement, and then pulled her to him. "No, neither of us is. We've got the strongest armour in the world."

END


End file.
